


Three, Shadow

by Anonymous



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Episode: s03e21 Same As It Never Was, Gen, Grieving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 12:24:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2692907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>For five seconds, the living room goes perfectly still while the kitchen burns on, roaring and sending out angry billowing smoke into the lair.</i> A oneshot about how losing Donnie makes everything fall apart, SAINW!verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three, Shadow

I. The Oven

…goes out spectacularly, letting out an enormous belch before erupting into flames; Mikey runs screeching out of the kitchen, screaming at the top of his lungs: “Fire! Fire there’s a fire run for your lives! Donnie there’s a fire in the kitchen Donnie where’s the fire extinguisher we’re all gonna die!”

The panic almost crests — Raph on his feet, Leo throwing his arm out to shield April, Splinter rushing in — but before they can jump into action, Mikey’s words wash over them. For five seconds, the living room goes perfectly still while the kitchen burns on, roaring and sending out angry billowing smoke into the lair.

Splinter breaks first, lightning-quick with the promise of thunder rumbling behind him, going for the fire extinguisher, saying not a word as he moves past Mikey, whose arms have dropped at his sides and who has half-sunk down, his heart exposed in the slant of his shoulders. Leo goes second, pats Mikey’s arm as he rushes in to help. Raph keeps standing there, staring at Mikey like he’s about to throw up but can’t quite let himself.

"The oven," Mikey says. April hurries past him. Somewhere above them, a sprinkler system turns on, spraying them in a shock of cold water. "The oven exploded," he explains, his gaze skating over Raph, jumping over the room like someone else might be hiding in the haze. "I didn’t do it, I was just cooking, but then it…can you fix it?" This time, the whole focus of his helplessness is trained on Raph. The water from the sprinkler runs down his face in thick rivulets, makes his mask stick to his cheeks.

Raph steps past him. He’s kind enough to give his shoulder a squeeze. “Hope you weren’t too attached to hot food,” he says, and leaves it at that.

II. The Electricity

…goes out over the course of a week in pops and bursts. By the time the main generator finally quits, everyone’s honestly relieved, because Raph has been in a temper ever since the first flickering failure and has a tendency to go into a rage whenever something new starts to fail.

What’s left of the family gathers in the living room; Leo and Splinter light a few lamps and candles, and then they all sit together in silence, contemplative and reserved. Raph rubs the heel of his hand against his eye. Mikey pulls his knees up to his chest and rests his chin on them, toys with a stray scrap of paper on the ground.

"We should call April," Leo says. "She said to let her know if we had more problems."

"That would be wise," Splinter says. When no one moves, he peers at each of his sons; Raph ducks his head against his scrutiny and glares at the unsteady glow of a lantern.

Then, softly: “I don’t fucking want April.”

"Raph," Leo says, sitting a little straighter.

But Splinter nods. “I would not ask her to take on such a responsibility. I do believe I remember enough about these old generators to get us started, however, if I had a little help jogging my memory. Raphael, do you care to join me?”

Raph hesitates. His hand clenches; the tendons in his hand stand out in the dead light; his lip curls — then, he relaxes, and sighs, and stands. “Fine,” he says. “But if we get ourselves blown up, I’m blamin’ you, okay, Sensei?”

"Then we won’t let that happen."

III. The Light in the Hall

…goes out in one silent blink. Leo notices it first and freezes in his tracks. “Hey,” he calls out, “has anybody noticed anything weird about this hallway?”

"Nothing weirder than you," Raph calls back from the living room.

"No, I mean — I’m serious, something’s wrong with the hallway. It looks different."

Mikey pokes his head in, hesitates, then cocks it. “Leo’s right, dude, this is — oh, it’s the light!”

As Leo and Mikey peer up at the light — trapped in a fixture that looks complicated to remove — Raph trudges in, holding an icepack to his arm, and the three of them take a while to stand there and stare at the dead lightbulb. Leo makes a soft, grim noise, the kind he usually makes before starting a particularly grueling training regime, and heads out of the hallway, brisk as he’s ever been.

"Aw, geez," Mikey says, watching him go. "Do we even have lightbulbs?"

"I have no idea," Raph says. He sucks at the corner of the bag, where some melted water has begun to seep through, then replaces it on the knot on his arm. The scrape of a ladder fills the lair; Raph tenses and glances toward the living room. "Actually, y’know what, I think I’m gonna go for a ride," he says.

"Don’t leave me," Mikey says, horrified.

Raph shrugs. “You wanna go out on the town, you build yourself a bike.”

Mikey opens his mouth to snap something but snaps it shut a second later, because Leo’s back in the hallway, dragging the ladder and lip curled in a snarl already. He has a box of lightbulbs tucked under his arm. Raph raises his eyebrows at Mikey.

"Hey, so, Leo, Raph and I were gonna go take a walk — "

"It’s four o’clock," Leo says. "Absolutely not."

"I mean, in the sewers. You can get that on your own, right?"

Leo sucks in a slow, deep breath; Raph and Mikey edge away. He lowers his head. “Fine. Just be back in time for patrol.”

"You got it," Mikey says, and before Leo has the chance to take it back, grabs Raph by the arm and hurries out, ignoring his aggravated noises of pain.

When they come back, Leo calls off patrol for the night: The light is still unchanged and the hallway floor littered with various screwdrivers and pliers and weapons, none of which seem to have made any dent in the fixture.

"Just leave," he says, when they linger in the hallway. "I’ll figure it out."

"Okay," Mikey says, but before either of them can do more than that, Leo’s snapping at them to go. "Okay," Mikey says again, softer, like he’s trying to emulate someone else, "we’ll go."

Over the next two weeks, Leo tries to take apart the fixture, spending an hour or two at a time before recollecting himself — and the worst part is that he never gets angry about it, not vocally, doesn’t shout or burst or do anything noisier than sigh in exasperation.

April is the one who finds him at the end of it.

He is resting on the bottom step of the ladder, head in his hands so that she cannot see his face. “It must be so obvious,” he murmurs. “It has to be.”

She kneels. “Sometimes things don’t have any reason for being the way they are,” she says, knowing as she does that Leo has already rejected it, knowing that it will never be enough.


End file.
